![]() ![]() The murky foyer had paneled walls and octagonal avocado-green tiles the size of dinner plates. He picked up his suitcase and made his way past a long bed of pale roses and into the white hotel. Back home, they’d be shoveling the driveway, but here there wasn’t even a cool breeze. ![]() ![]() He pulled out a handkerchief and swiped his broad forehead, round cheeks and the back of his neck. It looked like the California missions he’d studied in high school. It was painted the same cream as the garden wall, with tall, arched windows with dark brown shutters. He didn’t expect Sunset Boulevard to be a dirt track and he certainly didn’t expect to find a hotel sign out front of Alla Nazimova’s movie star mansion. Marcus set his suitcase down in the dust and stared at the gold letters of Allah. Excerpt below: The Garden of Allah novels during Hollywood’s golden years. These books are a pip! (click on the red letters to buy…) A perfect holiday gift for your favorite fan of old Hollywood. ![]()
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